


Persona 5: Her Game

by sinnamon_nerd



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Genderbending, Genderbent Protagonist, Rated M because it follows canon-typical stuff, sort of, spoilers for the game if you haven't finished it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnamon_nerd/pseuds/sinnamon_nerd
Summary: Having been sold out and ambushed during their latest heist, a beaten up Akira Kurusu must relay her story to a jaded prosecutor in, some might even say, excruciating detail.This is the tale of the Phantom Thieves that have taken Japan by storm.





	1. Day: ???, Time: ???

Alarms blared around her.  
  
_Breathe in. Breathe out._

In the casino beneath her, people were panicking.

_Jump._

She gripped on to the chandelier, the ornament rustling at the sudden weight.

Underneath her, three guards had noticed her presence as the civillians escaped. She held the briefcase she was carrying closer to her body, showing it off and smirking at the visible irritation of the guards before turning around and leaping to the next piece of decor hanging from the ceiling.

Whoever the architect was was clearly pro-thieves.

_Focus, Joker._

She ran across the neon-lighted sign, leaping off step after step, the voices of her teammates in her ears.

“ **Good. Now get running!** ”

“ **This is our only chance!** ”

" **Stay calm, you can get away now!** "

“ **We’ll retrieve the briefcase on our end.** ”

She didn't have the time to pay attention to their banter. All she had to do was bring the briefcase to the designated area, leave it there for the rest to pick up, and leave. Simple enough. ... In theory. First, she had to shake of her pursuers.

"Tch," she gritted her teeth in annoyance as a door busted open to the right of her.

_Don't pay them any mind._

She was on top of a series of arches now, jumping across one after the other in quick succession. Reaching the end, she grabbed on to the edge of the floor and flung herself on top of it.

Almost immediately after landing on her feet, she's met face to face with a guard, chest bursting open in a pool of red and black to reveal a demon of blue and orange that was almost as nicely dressed as a gentleman, a tail of sorts waggling behind it.

"Heh," she gave an amused chuckle. There was no time to waste here so she'd have to make quick work of this.

She pulled at her mask, a spurt of blood accompanying its removal as an eruption of blue flames occurred behind her, "Arsene!"

A horned being silhouetted in blue flames spawned in front of her. Arsene spun on his heel, kicking, and at the same time slashing, at the enemy with his knifed heels, blowing the blue and orange demon back slightly. He quickly followed up by forcefully pressing his palm to the ground, creating a swirl of red, black and white underneath the enemy. The swirl stretched out into what appeared to be a number of souls, one sporting a particularly maniacal grin taking centre stage. Each stretch reached out to pull at the demon and slamming it down.

Arsene dissipated then, and she ran at the enemy, blade in hand and slashed once, twice, three times before flipping backward and landing on one knee with a gun pointed at the injuries she had previously inflicted.

 _Smirk_.

With a pull of the trigger, the demon before her had exploded into splatters of ooze.

She stood, satisfied with her work. However, two other guards had already caught up to her, replacing her satisfaction with displeasure.

_No time. Just ignore them._

She made a show of jumping on a pillar behind her, proceeding further up until she was on the next floor.

" **Joker, behind you! Go through that door!"**

 _Right_.

She spun on her heels, heading for the door and locking it behind her as she entered. It would stall them, but only for a little while.

More of her teammates' banter rang in her ear and she allowed herself a moment to breathe before launching herslef forward in a sprint. She was in the backroom now, certainly it would be flooded with employees and she simply couldn't have them spotting her. Her grip on the briefcase tightened.

 _Door to the left_.

She ran down a set of stairs, coming down to a corridor.

_Bars at left. There are guards._

There was a window in front of her where she saw one of the many guards pursuing her and her team pause as she ducked away from sight.

“Where’d they go, dammit?!” His voice was muffled, but his irritation was clear. “I can’t confirm the intruders’ location,” he said, pressing a finger to his ear before running off again.

Crouching and moving as quietly as she could, she made her way to the right, where another guard was waiting at the end, a set of stairs leading up behind him. She hid behind a trolley, her dark apparell mixing with the shadows. When the guard looked left, she dived for the cover further to her right. When the guard looked right, she ducked forward to the cover on her left.

"She's not here," he told someone over the comm and ran past her, heading up the stairs she came down from.

" **Now's your chance!** "

And so she set the briefcase to the side and bolted for the stairs.

Up ahead was a surveillance room, a large window separating her from the hustle that occured within. When she was certain no one was looking, she ran past undetected.

 _So close now. One more flight of stairs_.

She could hear several footsteps behind her.

 _Already_?

Tossing the doors in front of her open, she was seemingly at a dead end. On the floor bellow her, guards teemed the area as everyone else left the building.

"’ **S Something wrong**? **The exit should be up ahead**."

"Through there?” She was looking at the window across her. It was large, a rainbow of colors adding flair to its design. She could probably fit between the grills that held it up if she broke through.

" **That's just how it is** ," their navigator sounded troubled. " **After that commotion, the bottom floor’s completely closed off**."

 _Well, then_.

“ **H-Hey, can you make it**?”

_Obviously._

Click.

She turned around to see three guards approaching her, guns at the ready. “There’s nowhere to run!”

 _That’s what_ you _think_.

She flung herself on to the bannister, running down it and jumping for a chandelier by the window as they shot at her.

 _Too bad_.

"See ya," she said whilst smirking, giving them a wink before she threw her arms out as she jumped through the stained-glass, flipping several times in midair so that her soles would absorb the impact of her fall as she landed on her feet.

“ **You’re such a show-off** …” Their navigator was amused. “ **You’re so reckless, you know that?”**

_Of course._

And so, she was outside.

_Easy._

Lights flashed at her face and she was temporarily blind until she brought gloved hand up to shield her eyes.

_Not so easy._

 In front of her stood what seemed to be hundreds of police officers raring to take her down.

“ **Enemies here?!** ”

“ **What’s wrong?!** ”

“ **These readings… It can’t be!** ”

“ **What happened?!** ”

“… **An ambush?** ”

“ **Joker can you handle this?!** ”

“ **Joker!** ”

“ **Oh no!** ”

“Capture her!”

 _Fire escape ladder to the right_.

She ran for it, the policemen cluttering around in an attempt to catch her. Jumping and proceeding to climb, she gave them a smirk. On the landing ahead of her, however, more of them waited and she was blown back with the butt of a rifle, bruising her forehead. She lost her grip and falling to the ground where the others wasted no time to pin and restrain her. The girl kept fighting, struggling against the weight on her and glaring at the man strutting in their direction.

He had a glare of his own, one that smouldered with disgust. "Didn't expect it to be some kid," his voice was condescending as he kneeled down next to her and grabbed a fist full of her hair. "You have your teammate to thank for this. You,” he pointed out, “were sold out."

Just like that, she stopped resisting.

The cop stood up, turning his back to her. "Suspect confirmed, cuff her!"

 

 

White noise was ringing in her ears, her entire body felt sore, and it hurt to breathe. Her consciousness was returning, just barely and it was hazy. She’d rather be asleep. Sleeping wasn’t painful. Alas, they would surely rob her of that. They seemed to like inflicting pain on her.

Just… how long has it been since they’ve taken her into custody? She’d lost track… Was she even _keeping_ track in the first place? … She didn’t know.

What _did_ she know?

They were saying something. She had to will herself focus to even try to hear what going on.

“Wake her up.”

_Ah, there we go._

Cold water was thrown at her, snapping her out of her half-asleep state. It stung, the bruises on her body reacting to the force. She shook droplets off her head, looking up at the detective in front of her. His brows were furrowed in disapproval, a look she was all too familiar with. His eyes seemed lifeless, likely scorned with the years of dealing with criminals. There were two others in the room who stood at the front with arms at their back, backs straightened and their feet apart, ready if she ever even thought to fight back.

“No dozing off,” the head’s voice was gruff, unwelcoming, _unmerciful_.

 _Tch_.

She struggled against her cuffs, so many times had she done this now that the act scraped off bits off her skin causing her to bleed slightly. She’d had enough, she wanted out, and she most certainly was not down for being treated like scum by elitist, dipshit adults.

Mr. Detective had a different idea, however. “You still don’t get it do you? Give it up!” He grunted, knee connecting with her side and knocking her out of her chair. She landed on the floor with a sharp gasp, pain coursing through her body. “Come on, cooperate,” his right foot followed, stomping and digging his heel into her left temple. “Or what? You want another shot?”

Through the dark spots in her vision, she could make out a red light in the corner of the room’s ceiling.

 _CCTV_?

The detective followed her gaze, sneering at the camera. “What,” he said to her mockingly, “’re you thinking it can be used as video evidence?

What they were doing _was_ a violation of her human rights, but the heel that dug at her temple, possibly cutting it with the amount of weight against it, gave her the idea that they didn’t care.

She didn’t answer.

He sneered at her, “Didn’t you hear my question?” For the nth time, he kicked at her gut, foot making contact with her stomach, knocking the air out of her as she gasped. “Answer!”

Deciding that he didn’t want to hear it, the detective turned around, grabbing a clipboard from one of the guys and began to read off it in that condescending voice of his. “Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons...” he read further, raising an eyebrow at something that caught his interest. “Manslaughter too, yeah? Talk about the works,” he waved the wooden board around before setting it down and turning back to her. “To think all those crimes were led by a punk like this,” the detective almost sounded disappointed. His eyes narrowed at her, “And you seemed to be enjoying every second of it...”

_Enjoying it...?_

Her thoughts were a mess, everything was hazy. ... She didn’t know. All she could clearly place her thoughts on was how much she wanted to get out.

He clicked his tongue, looking down at her both figuratively and literally. “You should know your place.”

Her place? She was a teenage girl in a male-dominated society and was currently being beaten down by supposed respectable police officers that were twice her size. It was bullshit.

However - she glanced around the room - they didn’t treat her like a girl. No, they were treating her like the leader of a criminal organization planning a coup d’état on the government. If they were to treat her like how they perceived her place in _their_ society should indicate, she was certain – oh so certain – that being beaten black and blue would be the better option. Perhaps this was them taking caution, they didn’t know the limit of her powers after all...

The detective ‘interrogating’ her gestured at his flunkies with a nod of his head and suddenly, she was uncuffed and sat upright, each cop pulling her up rather roughly by either of her arms. She rubbed at her wrists in an attempt of soothing the pain, but the contacts only made her wounds sting.

The clipboard previously held by the head detective was shoved at her face. “Sign here,” it was an order, not a choice. “It’s a confession under your name.”

 _Tough it out_.

She pushed his arm aside in defiance, something Mr. Detective was clearly not amused with.

“I see...” He straightened himself, looking down at her with an annoyed expression. “I need your hand to sign this, but...” The sudden, crushing weight of his foot on her left leg made her swear that her bones would be crushed, the pain making her cry out with a pained grunt. “I don’t care if you end up losing a leg...”He leaned forward, shifting all of his weight on the foot that was likely going to leave bruises in the pattern of the soles on his shoes. The detective looked her dead in the eyes, promising to make good on his threat if she didn’t cooperate.

She took the board from his hands.

He seemed to straighten himself out again, taking a silver-colored pen from his coat pockets, before he leaned forward again, his foot pressing down harder on her leg. “Don’t expect to make it out of here in one piece,” it was a promise, “we are going to make you understand,” she met his gaze with a hate-filled glare using all the strength that she could muster. “One must take full responsibility for their actions,” he handed her the pen which she all but snatched from his hand.

Finally, he got off her.

The metal of the writing tool felt especially cold against her beaten skin, she could barely hold on to it. She squinted at the page in front of her, trying to make out the writings on it to no avail. Her vision was too cloudy.

Gritting her teeth, she settled for signing her name on the bit of space at end of the paper.

_Kurusu Akira_

 

 

Her thoughts were too spacey. When was she sat back down on her chair? When did those three cops leave? She was struggling to stay conscious after all that. All she wanted was to rest, but they would never give her that. Blood was rushing to her head, making her dizzy.

At least they didn’t cuff her again.

She rubbed at her right temple, trying to soothe her being. It was barely working. Any kind of contact made to her body only added to the all-around pain that she was feeling. However, her vision was clearer now and her mental functions seemed to be returning to proper order, maybe she could still hold on to her consciousness for a while.

The door rustled open, the noise grating at her ears, before it was shut close.

_Who is it now?_

Her gaze travelled to her visitor. A woman. She was familiar. Where had she seen her before?

_Ah, yes…_

If she seemed to have a semblance of a grasp of her memories now that she wasn’t being “punished” to bear the responsibilities of her actions, maybe she could make it through this one.

The woman sat herself across her. This would likely be a proper interrogation, unlike all the ones prior. Her eyes focused on the prosecutor’s pin on the woman’s dark suit.

 _Focus. Stay conscious_.

But, why? She squinted, trying to indentify why it was so important that she make through this one. Alas, it was itch she couldn’t scratch. The memory would have to come back to her, hopefully before the interrogation ended.

“I didn’t expect it’d be you,” the woman spoke, sounding surprised despite her calm tone. “You’ll be answering my questions this time.”

Akira didn’t give her a response.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

Something on the floor caught the prosecutor’s sight then. Whatever it was caused irritation to show on her face as her brows furrowed and she clicked her tongue, “Those bastards…”

The woman leaned forward then, forcing Akira to make eye contact with her. “Can you hear me? It seems you’ve been through a lot…” Her gaze was intense, one that had a purpose. “Almost anything can happen here, and I can’t stop them.”

_Hah._

She straightened herself again, arms crossing across her chest. Akira had to focus on her movement, something to keep her alert. “That’s why I need you to answer me honestly. I don’t have much time either,” she reminded before listing a list of questions that Akira struggled to pick up. “What was your objective? Why did you cause such a major incident?”

Akira’s head hurt.

The prosecutor continued. “I didn’t think it was a prank from the get-go, but I couldn’t assemble a case for prosecution,” she looked down, thinking. “It’s because I couldn’t figure out the method behind it.

The corners of Akira’s mouth twitched in amusement. Speaking would cost her extra energy, but she had to. “Of course you couldn’t.”

_How could you?_

Her interrogator huffed. “True. There’s no way I could be convinced of such a…” she struggled to find the right word, “world just by reading the reports.”

“It seems you’re coherent,” the prosecutor observed, perhaps she was a bit glad that she would seemingly be able to have a proper conversation. Thus, she fired another round of questions. “When and where did you learn about that world? How is it even possible to steal another’s heart?”

Akira looked at the woman before her straight in the eyes.

_Prosecutor Sae Niijima…_

The woman paused for a moment. “… Now, tell me your account of everything. Start from the very beginning.”

Akira placed a hand to her throbbing head. Where would she find the strength to relay everything?

A voice rang through her thoughts then along with the image of a glittering blue butterfly, clearer than any thought she could possibly muster at the moment. It sounded like a child, a small girl… And she was pleading.

**… You are held captive, a prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance.**

**This is truly an unjust game…**

**Your chances of winning are almost none.**

**But, if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you…**

**I beg you.**

**Please overcome this game… and save the world.**

**The key to victory lies within the memories of your bonds – the truth that you and your friends grasped.**

**It all began that day…**

**When the game was started half a year ago…**

**For the sake of your world’s future…**

**As well as your own…**

**You must remember…**

_Half a year ago…?_

_Right then._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a product of many sleepless nights spent thinking ab9ut how the game could have gone if ATLUS gave us a femALE PROTAGONIST GODDAMMIT.
> 
> ... Anyway...
> 
> I decided to go with the format the game presented us, by which I mean the how-we-got-here setup. Of course, I will be changing things up a bit to add my own flare to it. As for pairings, I still haven't decided on those. All I know is that for Akira it will be with one of the boys. My uploads WILL be irregular but I rpomise not to take forever between chapters.
> 
> If anyone is interested in being my beata reader, please do tell me :)
> 
> I look forward to this journey with you!


	2. Tokyo is Weird

_“Please, help!” A woman was screaming, struggling against a man who had a firm grip on both of her wrists, repeatedly tugging her back when she tried to get away. Her neck craned her head as far away from the man as it could, putting as much space as possible between them despite her failed attempts of escape._

_The sight ignited a fire of rage within Akira. Did the men of this society really hold themselves in such high regard that they thought they could prey on whichever woman passed their fancy? The thought disgusted her. She approached the scene, left hand tightening its grip on the straps her bag that were slung over her shoulder so much that marks were left on her palm. Any fear she might have had of being overpowered in an undesirable position were thrown out the window. She’d had enough of people who thought themselves above others._

_Akira had yanked him off with more strength than she had calculated causing the man to stumble and fall face-first to the ground with loud thud, his glasses getting thrown off by the force and the concrete cutting his forehead._

_She stood in front of the woman as she watched him pull himself up, the said woman giving a horrified gasp behind her. His stagger indicated that he was obviously drunk as he found it hard to keep himself balanced, swaying side to side. It was only when he was fully upright that she finally got a good look at him. The man was bald but sported a goatee, his right was pressed against his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and he wore a suit that was dirtied by his fall with the buttons of his jacket undone._

_“Damn brat, I’ll sue!” His voice was sloshed, his tone irritated, and he gave her a glare that Akira would remember for the rest of her days because she_ knew _this was the kind of entitled elitist that could not – rather, would not - stand for anyone denying their authority. And his threat, despite being made in a drunken stupor, was definitely not a bluff._

_Then, police sirens were blaring._

Akira was jolted by her dream, her body tensing momentarily at the feeling of being threatened. When she recognized that she was, in fact, still with the rustling train bound for Tokyo and not in the darkness that was her hometown’s neighbourhood at night, she relaxed in her seat. She shook the memory out her head, focusing instead on a conversation between two female students. They were talking about those mental shutdowns that she had heard about on the news from time to time. Something she personally never looked too much into, curiosity killed the cat after all.

The train intercom sounded then, a woman’s voice speaking throughout. “ **Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for riding with us today. We will be arriving in Shibuya shortly. This is the last stop for this line. Please transfer here for all subway lines** _,”_ the lady informed. “ **The doors to your left will open…** ”

Akira pulled her phone out as she disembarked and booted up her navigation app when she finally got out of the station to check on her next destination. First, she would have to get across the legendary Shibuya crossing.

She paused in her walking to behold the sight before her. There had been rumours, of course, and she had seen it several times when it was featured on TV, but to experience the real thing was… overwhelming. Hundreds of people, young and old, all crossed the streets at the same time while headed for all sorts of directions – left, right, across, forward, and probably even every direction on a compass. … Okay, maybe that was a _slight_ exaggeration on her part.

_Still, how on earth does no one get run over on a regular basis here?_

She shook her head out of her trance and joined the crowd of citizens, not wanting to be left behind. When she looked back down on her phone to see which way she had to go next, a square of red had occupied the majority of its screen. In the middle sat what seemed to be an eye detailed in black with a star for its pupil. Her brows furrowed in confusion. Was this an ad? Could navigation apps even _get_ ads?

Akira tried tapping it a few times, but nothing happened. That was until, all of a sudden, everyone around her stopped moving mid-step, mid-conversation, mid-laugh as if frozen in time. Everyone, except for her.

For a moment she could swear she saw blue flames in the form of a winged figure with a Cheshire grin across the street luring her over. However, the moment was over as soon as it came and everyone was back to normal as if nothing had happened.

Brows still furrowed, she held a finger at the pop-up and dragged it down to the recycle bin before proceeding on her merry way, shoving the vision aside as a product of her tiredness.

It didn’t take her very long to finally get to Yongen-Jaya after that, maybe fifteen to twenty minutes if she included time spent for the next train. Now she stood in the backstreets of a residential area that was a bit too crowded, homes and establishments squeezed together to make the most of what little urban space there was. From what she could see, it was a friendly neighbourhood for the most part. Housewives chatted animatedly by the supermarket a short distance from where she stood, a couple children ran past her as they played, and there were even a few adults whom she assumed were retiring for the day. Immediately, she took notice of a second-hand shop, a clinic, and batting cages as other significant locations in the area. There was also that policeman that stood by the side, obviously scanning around for anything or anyone suspicious.

Akira’s eyes narrowed, her posture tensed. Her recent experience with the police force had embittered her towards their authority and she would rather not deal with them ever again. However, if anyone knew where her guardian-to-be lived, it would be him.

She took a moment to calm herself before approaching the officer, not wanting to say anything that would reveal her distaste.

“Excuse me?” Akira called out. The man turned to her, eyebrow raised.

“What is it?” He was impatient and the message that she was bothering him was sent very clearly.

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, instead tugging the bag she had been carrying closer, shifting her weight to her right leg and crossing the other behind it. “Do you happen to know where Sojiro Sakura-san lives?”

The policeman gave her a look but otherwise pointed further down the path. “It’s in an alley just right after that apartment with the stairs.”

“Thank you,” Akira bowed, the officer simply nodding at her in return. She walked away, tucking her phone away in her skirt pocket. On her way, she crossed paths with a mother-daughter duo walking their dog. What they were talking about was of no importance to her. Rather, she had to stop herself from petting the fluffy little creature. She had places to be, after all.

When she turned at the corner, she saw a man carrying a package ring the doorbell of a house she assumed to be her destination. The deliveryman placed a hand to his hip when no one answered the door.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he snapped his fingers. “Sakura-san is usually at in his café at this time… Well, Leblanc’s in the back-alley so I should make other deliveries first.”

Akira blinked.

_Well, how about that?_

The man noticed her then. “Did you need something?”

She shifted her weight again. “Um, yes... Where can I find Leblanc?”

He smiled at her. “It’s in an alley past the tobacco stand.”

“Oh, okay,” she bowed. “Thank you.”

The delivery man waved a hand and chuckled. “No problem!” he said before turning back to his truck.

 _At least_ he _was nice_.

Akira turned back around and exited the passage. Come to think of it, she did pass one such stand when she first arrived. Hopefully it would be the right one.

The police officer from earlier eyed her when she walked past him, most likely wondering why she was walking to and fro. She paid him no mind, continuing down the alley by the tobacco stand like the deliveryman had mentioned. It was a bit further down than she assumed, but eventually she stood on front of the café.

_‘Coffee & Curry Leblanc’_

She glanced at the sign on the door which read ‘OPEN’ and proceeded to head inside, the chiming of a bell signalling her entrance.

Any words of greeting she had died in her throat as soon as she walked through the door, different scents flooding her senses. The first thing she could make out was the strong scent of coffee being roasted followed by the warmth and spices of nice, home cooked curry. The interior of the café also aided in giving a homey feel. Brown paint was peeling off of some areas on the wall, an old CRT television spoke of the latest news in the far corner, an elderly couple sat across each other in one of the three booths, individual stools lined up against the bar counter, a cash register and a yellow phone rested on the edge near the door while siphons sat atop on the other end, chalk signboards showing the menu hung from the ceiling, behind the counter was a shelf containing jars upon jars of beans each with their own labels. Akira adored the aesthetic. She could definitely get used to this.

A man whom Akira assumed to be the manager and her new guardian occupied one of the individual seats. His dark hair was slicked back, facial hair embracing the rest of his face.  Gold-rimmed glasses sat on his nose bridge as he looked down on the newspaper he held in his left hand, the other holding on to a pencil. He wore a dark green apron over a pink dress shirt, its cuffs rolled up to just below his elbows, and a pair of cream-colored pants.

“Hm, vertical is the name of a shellfish used for farming pearls…” the mumble was barely coherent that Akira had barely caught it.

_Crossword?_

The man seemed to notice her then, dropping the paper and the pencil on the counter behind him as he stood. “Oh right,” he looked her over, “they did say that was today.”

It was then that the old couple stood up to leave, leaving their payment on the table and exchanging a few words with the man. When the door shut behind them, he grumbled something under his breath before turning back to her. “So you’re Akira?”

Akira nodded, bowing a little deeper than she had previously. “Please take care of me.”

He gave her an ‘Uh-huh’ for a response before formally introducing himself. “I’m Sojiro Sakura. You’ll be in my custody over the next year.”

That much, she knew.

“I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up,” he glanced at her up and down ash he said it, likely taking not of how ‘ruly’ she actually looked, “but you’re the one, huh?”

 _Sorry to disappoint,_ she almost deadpanned.

“Have you been told?” he continued. “A customer of mine and your parents know each other and, well… Not that that matters…”

Oh, she had. How that exchange happened confused her to no end when they told her about it. What friendly conversation would lead to this kind of situation, she didn’t know. However, she chose not to press the matter further, mostly because of how aggravated she felt at the time.

Sakura-san turned his back to her then. “Follow me,” he said as he climbed a set of stairs at the back end of the café. Akira trailed behind him, making note of the toilet at the foot of the stairs and stopping once they came to a large, cluttered attic that was clearly being used as a storage room up until recently. Layers of dust covered a great majority of things that was not the group of bean bags that rested on the shelf by the stairs, the makeshift bed in the far right corner, or the familiar box in the middle of the room.

_Is that a spider web in the corner?_

…

 _Yup, that’s a spider web in the corner_.

He turned to her. “This is your room.”

Akira tugged her bag closer, struggling to find the right words. “It’s, uh… something.”

“I at least gave you sheets for your bed,” he huffed. The look on his face that followed was stern. He would not take any complaints. “It’s on you to clean up the rest.”

_What ‘rest’? It doesn’t even look like you cleaned anything in the first place!_

Akira kept her mouth shut and let him talk. It wouldn’t do to piss off her caretaker.

“I’ll be leaving after I close up each day. You’ll be alone at night, but don’t do anything stupid. I’ll throw you out if you cause any trouble,” his tone was scolding but not unkind. Still, Akira almost rolled her eyes at the accusation.

It wasn’t as though she had been expecting the warmest welcome, but he’d really gone and taken to treating her like a criminal.

Sakura-san continued speaking. “Now then…” he was fully facing her now. “I got the gist of her situation,” he crossed his arm with his right hand stroking his beard as he recalled the details. “You protected some woman from a man forcing himself on her, he got injured, then sued you. Is that right?”

Akira nodded. She was a little bit confused, though. If he knew the details, why was he so cold to her?

He huffed again, not meeting her eye. Instead, he was looking at the floor. Akira thought he almost looked disappointed, except there was something else there.

_What, though?_

“That’s what you get for sticking your nose in a matter between two adults. You did injure him, yeah?”

Akira’s grip on her bag tightened, her lips pursed and her feet apart. She had to focus on her breathing to keep it even. If there was anything she stood by, it was her decision to save that woman. No matter what the outcome had become.

Not that she expected him to get it.

Somehow, she had managed to calm down before he could continue speaking.

His gaze was back on her. “And now that you’ve got a criminal record, you were expelled from your old high school. The courts ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved.”

Akira shifted her weight to her left leg, looking down with a frown.

“In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass,” Sakura-san put his right hand to his hip.

She wanted to laugh. What had been said was most likely the truth. She had never seen her parents so heartbroken and disappointed before, even as they were filing for their divorce. The girl sighed.

When she met his eyes again, his stern look had returned. “It’s best you not talk about anything unnecessary. I am in the restaurant business, you know.”

As if she would want to ruin the beautiful aesthetic on the floor below.

“Behave yourself for the year. If nothing happens, your probation will be lifted.”

Akira tried not to sneer at the word, opting for another sigh instead.

Sakura-san scratched the back of his head, probably misinterpreting her reaction. “Your sentence lasts until next spring, right?” Akira nodded. “Cause any problems and you’ll be sent straight to juvie.”

 _Enough already. Way to kick a girl when she’s down_.

He seemed to notice her discomfort considering how he changed the topic. “We’ll be going to Shujin tomorrow and introduce ourselves properly to the staff there. There’s rarely a place that will accept someone like you, you know.”

_You mean a good citizen?_

Sakura-san grumbled something under his breath that Akira didn’t quite catch before he shook his head and gestured to the box in the middle of the room. “Your luggage arrived earlier, I left it over there.”

Ah, she though it looked familiar.

He left her after that. Akira dumped her bag on the box and plopped herself down on her bed. That talk had worn her down more than the travel had. She huffed as she got up again. There was plenty of time for her to be tired later. For now, she had to clean the crap out of her new room.

She bent forward instead of kneeling down by the box, not wanting to get the clothes she was wearing dirty. From it, she claimed a white, star-patterned shirt that was two sizes too big for her and a pair of red tights. She changed out of the uniform she had opted to travel in into those. They weren’t her going out clothes, but if she was going to spend the next few hours knee deep in dust, she would rather get these dirty.

Next, she undid the braid that fell on her right shoulder, momentarily letting loose a black, wavy, fluffy mess that fell to her lower back before she bundled it all up into a bun on the back of her head and tying it in place with the hair tie that she held between her lips. She also took off her black, thickly-rimmed glasses, put them in their case and then in her bag. It wasn’t like she needed them. In fact, she had only gotten them to help change her image.

Not that it worked.

Akira clapped her hands together and got to work.

 _First order of business: Get rid of that spider web_.

One sad face drawn in the dust and hours of dusting, sweeping and scrubbing later, her room was as spotless as it could get. She had discovered a couch that was still useable, emptied out the bookshelf next to her bed, the books themselves were stacked away neatly on the other side of the room where she stashed everything else, including a ladder, a portable stove, and a heater. That side of the room also had spare tables and stools stacked against each other. Three bags of junk to be thrown out lay by the stairs, the work desk across her desk had been cleaned, a red tool box sitting on top of it. There was even a plant she was sure she could nurse back to full health in time, for now though, it rested against the bookshelf, limp and half-way to death. Her box of belongings was squeezed between her makeshift bed and the bookshelf for easy access.

Akira had always liked cleaning. Not only was it a nice way of sublimation, but she also had a tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist whenever she got started. That being said, she couldn’t help but collapse into a panting mess on the floor when she finished. She sat leaning against her box, sweat making her hair and clothes stick to her skin, her bun had loosened, her legs were outstretched in front of her, and her arms were limp beside her.

Sakura-san came up then, a look of surprise and awe crossing his face when he saw how clean the place had gotten. “What the heck? I heard you making all sorts of noise up in here, but I didn’t think you were actually cleaning…” He trailed off, looking around the room. “Not bad,” he seemed impressed.

Akira sat up properly, crossing her legs. “Sakura-san,” she panted, “is there anywhere I can bathe?”

He was taken aback by the question, as if he hadn’t thought that she would need to do such a thing. “Uh… There’s a public bath right across this place, I can at least give you some money for that for now,” Sakura-san scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, this place _is_ first and foremost a restaurant after all.”

A tired nod was the only acknowledgment Akira gave.

“Here,” he took out five hundred yen and placed it on top of the table by the couch before turning around. “I’ll wait for you to come back before I close up.”

_Where did the grouch from earlier go?_

With that Akira stood up, her body sore, grabbed her toiletries, a towel, her underwear, and her pyjamas and headed out.

A nice warm bath was exactly what she needed anyway. Too bad she couldn’t take her time.

When she returned in a loose black jumper and a pair of army green shorts, Sakura-san had a few more words of warning for her before he left. Akira nodded without complaint, dragging her body up the stairs and onto her bed. Tired though she may be, the events that led up to her living in an attic ways away from her hometown plagued her mind now that she had nothing to busy herself with.

How she’d been on her way home from an errand when she heard the woman’s pleas…

How the bastard acted all high and mighty…

How the police had unfairly cuffed her under the man’s orders…

How ridiculous that ‘trial’ was, if anyone could even call it that.

Akira shook her head and turned to face the wall.

_Criminal record? Assault? What a load of bull._

She huffed. The memory frustrated her to no end. How could people like that sleep soundly at night? She knew the answer, of course, and it annoyed her even more.

Deciding to shove the thought aside, she took out her phone from under her pillow. Maybe if she played on one of her apps for a while she’d drift off…

Scrolling through her menu screen, Akira noticed the same logo that popped up on her navigation app before. Did she not delete it?

Well, if she didn’t then, she surely did now.

Her hands fell to her sides afterward. Maybe she didn’t need to distract herself after all.

And so she drifted off to sleep.

 

Or so she thought.

She awoke with a start. The mattress she had been lying on had been replaced with and her pillow had vanished. All around her, all she could see was a deep velvet blue colour. Chains hung from the ceiling, the sight of them shocking her enough that she sat up. Upon doing so, there were two things she noticed: her pyjamas had been replaced by a black and white pinstriped institutional apparel that was tattered in some areas, and her hands were being cuffed together with a chain long enough that her hands were practically at her side. Aside from her wooden plank of a bed, there was also a toilet seat on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, to her right was what clearly was a cell door, bars locking her inside the tiny, rectangular room.

_Is this some kind of joke?!_

Akira didn’t bother to hide the scowl on her face.

A high-pitched, child-like chuckle from outside her cell called her back to attention. She stood up to walk to the cell door, only to be stopped in her tracks by a weight pulling her back. Akira looked behind her to see a chain running from her right ankle to a metal ball. She sneered at it before continuing to approach the bars.

A pair of little twin girls dressed in police uniforms stood outside. To her right was a girl with buns pinned to either side of her head, a baton in her hands, and an eyepatch on her right eye; to her left, was her exact copy in terms of features, except this one had her hair in a braid, held a clipboard, and had her eyepatch on her left eye; both, however, had white hair and golden eyes that seemed to hide more power than those little bodies should be able to hold.

Behind them was a man sat at a desk in the middle of a circular room. He was old, dressed in a suit, balding at the top, with bulging, bloodshot eyes and an abnormally large nose. He extended a hand to her, a Cheshire grin on his face.

“Trickster,” his voice was demonic, cold, and menacing, a stark contrast to his impish appearance, “welcome to my Velvet Room.”

Akira’s brows furrowed as gripped on to the bars of her cell door and trying to force them apart.

_What on earth…?_

The girl to her right was the first to speak. “So you’ve come to, inmate,” the only way Akira could describe her was ‘snooty’.

“The you in reality is currently fast asleep,” the other followed. This one, on the other hand, was much more reserved. “You are only experiencing this as a dream.”

The snooty one sneered at her. “You’re in the presence of our master, stand up straight!”

_Okay, yeah. Screw you, too._

“Welcome,” the demon spoke, turning Akira’s attention back to him as the twins spun around to face him. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance. This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a room that only those bound by a contract may enter. I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember it well.”

To say that Akira was confused would be an understatement.

“I summoned you here to speak of important matters,” Igor continued. “It involves your life as well.”

_To hell with that!_

“Let me out!” Akira protested, a low growl in her voice. She would not tolerate being treated like criminal!

The girl on her right was having none of it. She hit the cell door with her baton, sending sparks of electricity down the cold metal, forcing Akira to step back. “Know your place, inmate! Who do you think you’re talking to?!”

Igor made no comments on this, instead looking around the area. “Still, this is a surprise. The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as such…” he seemed to smirk before turning back to her. “You truly are a ‘prisoner’ of fate.”

_The state of my heart?_

Akira sneered as she gripped on to the metal bars again.

“In the near future, there is no mistake that ruin awaits you,” Igor was amused. “But worry not, there is a means to oppose such a fate.” He gestured to her, “You must be ‘rehabilitated’. Rehabilitated towards freedom… That is your only means to avoid ruin.”

His bloodshot eyes met her own glaring gray ones.

“Do you have the resolve to challenge the distortion of the world?”

She raised an eyebrow. Was this one of those prophetic dreams? “I’d rather avoid ruin.”

Igor’s Cheshire grin widened. “Allow me to observe the path of your rehabilitation.”

The twins turned back to her with trained, military synchronization.

“Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others,” Igor rested his head on the back of his right hand. “To your right is Caroline; to your left, Justine. They serve as wardens here.”

Caroline smirked at her. “Hmph, try and struggle as hard as you like.”

Justine’s voice followed in drawl. “The duty of wardens is to protect inmates. We are also your collaborators.”

Akira definitely preferred Justine.

“That is, if you remain obedient.”

 _Never mind, they’ve both got sticks up where they shouldn’t be_.

“I shall explain the roles of these two at another occasion,” Igor spoke once again and they turned back to face him. He shifted his head to the back of his left hand, his right drumming against the table. “Now then, it seems the night is waning… It’s almost time. Take your time to slowly come to understand this place. We will surely meet again, eventually…”

With a snap of his fingers, alarms blared throughout the room.

Caroline turned to her. “Time’s up! Now hurry up and go back to sleep.”

Before Akira could get another word in, everything had faded to black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read the previous chapter! I've actully had this done for a while now but thought to space out my uploads a bit.
> 
> I know the memory of the night of her arrest isn't supposed to be a dream, but I thought it would be a nice tell-tale sign that the event had traumatized her in some way if the memory haunted her in her sleep. I also had her clean her entire room because how the eff can in-game Akira stand leaving behind all that mess??? smh i'm v disappoint
> 
> Oh, and I'm still looking for a beta. My tumblr's @hopefulsugakookiealienmoster if you're interested :)
> 
> Chapter 3 might take some time, but see you then, yeah? 
> 
> Thank you for the support!


	3. Shujin High? More Like, Screw It Bye!

“There was a terrible subway accident the day after you arrived in Tokyo,” Niijima-san stated as an official opening remark to the interrogation. “You remember it, don’t you?”

Akira nodded.

“I also assume you know of the uproar that the public calls the ‘psychotic breakdown incidents.’”

“I’ve heard of them,” Akira replied, vague as she could.

The lady prosecutor raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if it’s none of your business.” She leaned forward, eyes intense. “It was all over the news and one of the victims was a teacher from your high school. I’ve no doubt you heard about it.”

Akira raised her own brow, the way she held her head in her hand making her seem nonchalant as opposed to tired. “Your point?”

Her interrogator scowled, but continued. “ On that day were you still an ‘ordinary’ student?”

_Did she not hear the part about time stopping?_

“Let me change my question,” the woman leaned back in her chair. “You transferred to Shujin Academy, correct?”

Akira nodded.                                                                          

“An ordinary prep school that could be found in any city… That’s what it should have been,” she looked the beaten-up girl in front of her in the eye. What happened around that time?”

Akira sighed.

The scowl returned on the prosecutor’s face, demanding her to cooperate. “Tell me everything. Truthfully.”

The girl sat up straight.

_Right._

 

The drive to her school was riden in uncomfortable silence as Akira sat in the passenger seat of Sakura-san’s yellow car. Throughout it, it seemed like he had a few words to say but chose against it. Instead, he was muttering under his breath with a scowl on his face. Akira was too distracted to pay him any mind, The dream from the previous night still plagued her. It was too vivid, too real, to simply be a dream and yet, at the same time, it was _too_ strange. Those twins, that demonic imp of an old man… Moreover, the idea of her heart being akin to a prison was too jarringly accurate to accept.

That put two out of two passengers in a foul mood.

When they arrived, the pair was ushered to the principal’s office. It was a small space. From where she stood, she could see a shelf lining the right side of the wall behind the desk, a window covered by green blinds brought in a dimmed light from the outside, a plant similar to the one she had in her room stood tall to the left of the table, and a group of drawers occupied the space to the right of her. Sat behind the principal’s desk was a man so obese, his clothes were bulging at the seams, his neck disappeared under his chin, and his bald head gave him the appearance of an egg.

Akira blinked.

_How has he not had a heart attack yet?_

The woman that stood to his left looked as though she was perpetually tired. She wore a denim skirt and a yellow sweater striped with red and white lines. Both articles of clothing were rumpled, almost as though she simply threw on whatever she could get her hands on first, regardless of whether they had been ironed or not, and her short dark hair was an even bigger dishevelled mess than her own, Akira decided.

“To reiterate,” the principal, Mr. Kobayakawa, spoke after Sakura-san had signed some papers. Akira snapped to attention. She’d been drowning out the entire conversation of how she ought to ‘follow the rules or else’ the entire time. Constantly being reminded to remain on good behaviour was getting really old really fast. However, his gaze was fully directed at her now and she had to _at least_ pretend that she cared about what they had to say. “Just so we’re clear,” he continued, “you will immediately be expelled if you cause any problems. Honestly, I hesitated on accepting someone like you, but there were some circumstances on our side…”

Akira raised an eyebrow.

Mr. Kobayakawa’s tone changed then, it was condescending, judgemental. “You might have done a variety of things in hiding in your hometown, but you _will_ behave yourself here.”

That earned a mental eyeroll from Akira. Since when was being a goo-

_You know what? Nevermind._

“If you are thrown out from our school,” he kept going, “there will be no place for you to go. Keep that in mind.” The principal then gestured to the woman beside him. “This is the teacher in charge of your class.”

Akira shifted her weight from her right leg to her left, turning her torso so she was facing the woman, right hand remaining in her skirt pocket and her left hand pressed loosely to her back.

“I’m Sadayo Kawakami,” she introduced, her voice as tired as she looked, before she placed an ID on the table. It had a picture of Akira without her glasses on, expression unamused. “Here’s your student ID.”

Akira slipped it off the table and into her pocket without so much a word.

“Be sure to read the school rules,” Ms. Kawakami added. “Any violation will send you straight to the guidance office. And, if by chance you cause any problems, I won’t be able to protect you at all.”

Akira would not. They were the same everywhere anyway, especially _now_. She was fairly certain that even if she was a mere minute late they would expel her.

She nodded.

Ms. Kawakami sighed, lips pressing into a tight line as she turned to face the principal. “That is you promise, yes, Principal Kobayakawa?”

He gave an affirmative ‘mhm’ and a nod. “She is responsible for all her actions.”

Her homeroom teacher’s brows furrowed as she looked down, arms crossed in front of her body so that she was sideways to both her and Sakura-san. “But really though, why me? There should’ve been better candidates…”

Akira was appalled. Could they really not save this for when she was out of earshot? Or did they just get a kick out of making her feel unwanted?

The girl’s gaze travelled to her guardian. He had a hand to his hip and a scowl on his face. He looked about as unamused as she felt.

Sakura-san huffed. “If you’re done explaining things, mind if we get going? I’ve got a store to get back to…”

The principal’s eyes narrowed at her before he addressed her guardian. “Sakura-san, please keep an eye on her. Don’t let her cause any trouble outside.”

_I’m so done with this treatment. Funny how you do a lifetime of right, but a single wrong damns you for all the rest of it_.

Sakura-san scratched the back of his neck, groaning under his breath. “Well, I’ll be sure to have a serious talk about the situation she’s in.”

“Come to the faculty office when you arrive at school tomorrow,” Ms. Kawakami was talking to her now, as if she hadn’t been complaining about Akira’s very existence moments ago. “I’ll show you to your classroom.”

Akira simply nodded before turning around and exiting the room, Sakura-san right behind her. The door had barely closed when she heard him groan out _both_ their frustrations. She faced him, he had his nose scrunched up and his shoulders slouched.

“They’re treating you like some kind of nuisance,” he sounded tired. “I guess that’s just what it means to have a criminal record…”

She sighed.

“Turns out your past follows you wherever you go,” her guardian looked her over before heaving a deep breath and shaking his head.

Akira shrugged. Yes, she didn’t expect any different, but it still really ground her gears.

“School never changes, huh?” Sakura-san seemed to hold a disdain for the system and she couldn’t agree more. Even before she had her record stained, school had always been an overbearing environment of ridiculous expectations that slowly drove all of its students insane.

“Come on,” he started walking and Akira fell into step behind him. “We’re going home.”

The ride from was even more uncomfortable than the ride to. While they had left Leblanc early and spent only little over an hour at the school, the trip back was taking forever. City traffic was on a whole different level. They had barely left the Aoyama-Itchome area when they got stuck in the midst of it all with Sakura-san cussing up a storm about how he had _a store to open_ and how _people need to get a move on_ or so help him. Akira couldn’t help but awkwardly shift in her seat.

It was a bad day to have forgotten her earphones.

After what she swore was the millionth honk from the old car’s horn, , her guardian had all but slammed his head against the steering wheel, grumbling under his breath.

“You’re taking the train starting tomorrow,” he sounded as impatient as a bunch of video game fans that had been waiting for a game that had been constantly delayed for three years. Akira had to wonder how he hadn’t just forced their way through the jam.

Sakura-san closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before speaking again. “So, how was it? The school, I mean. Think you can manage?”

She stopped for a moment, swallowing a snarky response that would have gotten her another earful. Instead, she shrugged and forced a small smile. “I’ll be okay.”

_As long as teachers don’t treat me unjustly just because I ‘have a record,’_ Akira continued mentally. She had always been among of the top ten back in her hometown, and she simply would not have _anyone_ taking away her possible achievements just because of the stigma her label as a criminal brought. Probation be damned.

He gave her a look, huffed, and turned back to the street to advance the car. “Don’t expect anyone to be sympathetic with you. They’ve all got better things to do than associate with a criminal, after all.”

Oh, she didn’t.

It was silent again after that. Akira had taken to staring out the window and into the gray day. Cars of all types and colors lined the streets, the lack of rhythm of the incessant honking formed some sort of twisted melody that she thought fit the city life quite well – loud, cramped, and irregular. Traffic moved so rarely, one could easily perceive the stillness as a painting. However, any onlooker would be disturbed by the sudden, sporadic movements that would occur that perhaps they would even mistake the painting to have come straight out of the Parry Hotter series.

Daydream as she might, the lack of anything to do was beginning to unsettle her. She wasn’t used to sitting in a car seat for hours on end, she couldn’t pull her phone to play with any of her apps because she’d left her earphones at the café and muting the sound was completely out of the question, and sleeping would just be awkward.

Akira sunk in her seat with a sigh. She could try humming a tune but at this point, she was sure that _anything_ she did would land her another session of ‘You Are a Problem Child’ and, frankly, she had heard enough to last her a lifetime.

Sakura-san muttered something about how there might be rumors about him in the future and a complaint about what a troublesome kid he’d taken in. Akira snorted as she straightened herself, the words leaving her mouth faster than her mother had left her father.

“Why _did_ you take me in?” She was genuinely curious. With the way he was treating her, he didn’t exactly come off as someone who wanted to help others.

He seemed shocked that she’d heard him, but was it really such a big surprise when they were in a small, enclosed space together?

Sakura-san shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat and tugging his fedora down. “I was asked to do it, and I just…” his lips pressed into a tight line, “happened to agree to it. I’ve already been paid for it too, after all.” The way he added the last bit made it sound like an afterthought, making it seem like there was more to it than he’d like to let her know.

Akira shrugged. She’d take it. Money made the world go ‘round and all that.

Silence fell over them once again and Akira was sure she was going to go mad if the ungodly traffic jam lasted any longer. She tried mentally counting the seconds between each budge. So far the highest count was at a wait of five hundred and seventy-two seconds.

_Divide that by sixty and you get… Let’s see, uh…_

Akira wasn’t sure when the radio was turned on, but she was glad for it. The last thing she wanted was to go insane over numbers. The broadcaster’s grainy voice was very much welcome to deliver the news of the subway accident, even if the news itself wasn’t very pleasant. At least that explained why it was so jam-packed.

After that, somehow, someway, they made it back to Leblanc. Night had fallen, however, so it was pointless to even open up shop, much to the irritability of her guardian. He was gone almost as soon as they arrived, leaving her with five hundred yen for a bath, a probation diary to write in, and a reminder to behave herself.

Her first priority was the bath, which she was all too glad to take. However, that meant leaving the door to the café unlocked as she didn’t have the key to it, not that anyone would come by and steal from it. It _did_ seem like a peaceful neighbourhood, after all. She would just have to hurry it up to be sure, much to her dismay.

“Well, better that then get kicked out, right?” she mumbled to herself as she left the public bath one quick soak later. Maybe one day she’d get to enjoy a bath so long that her skin would become indistinguishable from that of a raisin’s.

Akira’s hand was already on the doorknob when she noticed that the sign on the door said that they were open. She flipped it to ‘CLOSED’ and briefly wondered how many people had come by only to be let down when they realized the store was unattended as she went inside. Having hung her towel on an improvised clothesline and tossing her laundry in a basket she’d found while cleaning, she was now sat her bed with her new diary and a pen in her hands, her back against the wall.

[ _ ~~Day 1, technically 2 of stay,~~  
  Day 1 of having this diary (4/10)_

_Everyone’s treating me like I’m scum of the earth because /apparently/ helping others is the worst thing you could possibly do and you should feel bad._

_Also, city traffic??? What on earth??? How??? That actually took #5ever_ ]

She snorted at her entry. If she was going to be forced to keep track of her daily activities, the least she could do was make them entertaining.

With that, she snapped the little, black notebook shut, took off her glasses, placed everything she held on the window sill and went to, what was hopefully a dreamless sleep.

 

She had barely left Yongen after complimenting the heavenly plate of curry and transcendent cup of coffee her guardian had served her for breakfast when started drizzling. It certainly added a layer of anxiety to her search for the platform that led to her school. She had her umbrella with her, obviously, but she’d rather not get caught in the rain while she tried to navigate around Tokyo’s ridiculously large underground system.

Akira found the Ginza Line with relative ease thanks to the numerous signboards and station attendants that indicated the way. She’d even made it onto the train just as it was about to leave, but dear heavens was it packed. It felt as though they were sardines being squeezed into a can. How anyone could breathe was beyond her.

_Leave Leblanc earlier next time, good lord._

BY the time she got off at Aoyama-Itchome, it was full-on pouring. She whipped her dark, plaid-patterned umbrella, pressed a button and, whoosh, she was shielded from the rain.

On her way out, Akira noticed a girl dressed in the Shujin jacket over a white hoodie, red tights and brown boots stood right before the spot where the ended. She pulled her hood up, covering her platinum blonde hair, and bolted for the nearest building. Akira blinked after her. Maybe she should offer to share her umbrella…?

Then again, the last time she tried to do a good deed, she was put on probation.

Akira began walking, practically dragging her feet, before stopping. “Oh, screw it!” she grumbled to herself as she turned back around and headed towards the flashily dressed girl who, now that Akira had a good chance to look at her, was ridiculously pretty with her blue eyes and foreign features..

“Excuse me,” Akira called out to her with a soft smile, “would you like to share? Waiting for the rain to stop would probably make you late.”

Akira nodded. “Akira Kurusu, second-year. It’s nice to meet you!”

“We’re in the same grade!” the girl replied cheerily. “I’m Ann Takamaki. It’s nice to meet too, Kurusu-san. Do you know what class you’re in?”

The brunette shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. My homeroom teacher said she’d show me, though.”

Takamaki-san hummed thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Akira couldn’t help but smile as she nodded. Offering to share her umbrella had been a good decision. She’d met the first kind soul since her arrival, her flashy appearance not really seeming to hold any meaning.

Their walk to the school was silent after that and neither had any inkling of the malicious glare that followed them from within a silver car.

They parted at the school entrance. The blonde scurrying off somewhere after a quick ‘see ya’ and Akira looking for the faculty office which was on the second floor, something that she found rather odd as her old school had theirs on the first. Not that it was a big deal, of course.

She slid the door open with an ‘excuse me’ and several heads popped up from behind desks to look at who had just entered, and upon deeming that it wasn’t anyone they had to bother with, turned back to whatever work they had been doing. Ms. Kawakami, however, had seen her and called her over. Once again, the teacher looked way too tired but also completely surprised.

“I…” Ms. Kawakami started, looking down, “didn’t think you’d actually show up,” she admitted.

Akira almost rolled her eyes.

“Come, sit here,” the teacher pulled up one of the swivel chairs next to her. “I’ll have you introduce yourself in a little bit. Just don’t say anything unnecessary, okay?”

The nasty little crime girl sat down, quietly clicking her tongue in annoyance, but otherwise nodding. What did she expect her to say anyway?

“Oh, and classes will be ending after fifth period today due to the railway incident,” Ms. Kawakami nodded. “Make sure to go straight home, okay?”

Akira nodded, actually rolling her eyes the moment the perpetually tired teacher looked away.

There was still some time until class started and she spent it observing the room. Three rows comprised of two lines of desks front-to-front each went horizontally across the room. Each table had its own stack of books and things, some messier than others. The office wasn’t fully occupied as some swivel chairs lacked their respective teachers. Other students also took up some space, asking questions or submitting papers all around. Some even stared at her, curious about who the new face was.

She had been told that the teacher whose chair she was occupying would be absent and that it should be fine to sit there. Having been told that, the restraint she had to exercise in order to not just go spinning like a madman was difficult to keep.

Maybe she’d get a swivel chair for her room at some point…

Ms. Kawakami stood after a few more minutes with a ‘let’s go’ and a gesture to follow. Akira followed suit, placing the seat back to its respective table. It wasn’t much of a walk to the classroom. They made two right turns after leaving the office and, bam, they were there.

_Class 2-D, right by the stairs._

Muffled noise could be heard from outside, just what one would expect from a high school classroom.

They went inside and, immediately, the raven-haired girl made out two figures who honestly looked like they could be main characters of an anime – Takamaki-san who sat by the window on the third row and a boy with blue hair who did not wear the school-issue jacket that had bruises all over his face. She had no time to ponder this however, as she was almost immediately asked to introduce herself when Ms. Kawakami had finally silenced the class then assigned her seat.

She settled herself behind Takamaki-san, flashing her a discreet little smile as she walked past.

The morning passed slowly, each class dragging on for seemingly longer than the last. Akira was barely paying attention as she took down notes, mostly because it astounded her how much weirder every teacher that followed was.

Except Mr. Ushimaru. Mr. Ushimaru was definitely going to be a pain to deal with. He would make sure to glare at her when he had the chance and would address her with disdain whenever he asked her a question.

When lunchtime rolled around, Akira found herself sat atop the stairs headed to the school roof all on her own. Plan A was to ask Takamaki-san if she wanted to eat lunch together, but she was out the door as soon as the bell rang. Plan B was to eat at the rooftop, but a note was posted on the door saying that no one was allowed op there. So there she sat, eating melon bread and sipping strawberry milk bought with the monthly allowance her parents said they would send.

Not that she minded.

She thought it was nice to not have to think about certain things for once. Instead, she focused on the manufactured flavour of the food in her hands and, aside from Mr. Ushimaru, how her teachers at least didn’t show their contempt toward her openly. All in all, it had been a good day so far.

Akira finished her lunch in record time, dumped her trash in the nearest bin, and headed back to her classroom.

Fifth period went by in a flash and, just like Ms. Kawakami said, they were instructed to go home.

She’d been standing by the gates of the school and staring down at her phone while looking for possible hangout spots when she was approached by a teacher she didn’t recognize. He was tall and ripped with a thick mop of black hair, and a chin that made it look like he was hit by a shovel in the face. She assumed him to be the PE teacher based on the way he was dressed – white shirt, sweatpants, sneakers, and a stopwatch hanging from his neck.

He was also leering at her.

“So, you’re the transfer student, huh?” He eyed her up and down, his tone indiscernible.

Akira straightened herself, unconsciously keeping her legs closed as she looked up at him. “That’s right.”

The teacher sneered. “Who’d have thought that pretty little face like that could be the suspect of an assault case…”

Her grip on her phone tightened as she held it to her side. “Excuse me?”

“Oh…” He was smirking now, left hand stroking his chin with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Playing dumb are we?” He stepped closer, violating her personal space and placing a hand far too low on her back. It made her skin crawl. “Why don’t you come to my office? You can tell me _all_ about your little secret and I _promise_ to help.”

Akira knew what that meant and she was thoroughly disgusted by the implications, even more so when the ‘kind’ offer was followed by a squeeze to her hip.

She held herself as far away as her hold would allow.

The arm around her inched her forward despite her forcing her weight in place so she wouldn’t budge. Physical, she showed no reaction; in her mind, she was livid.

_Do they seriously hire teachers like_ this _?!_

“Come on,” he egged, still smirking. “I can help you.”

“I am _so_ sorry, but my guardian will be waiting for me,” she responded through gritted teeth

_If I fought him off, I’ll get in trouble._

“I’m sure he’ll be fine once you tell him why… This is for your own good, after all.”

_Like hell if anyone would try to help her out of_ this _scenario._

“With all due respect, _sir_ , I think I can manage.”

_Am I supposed to let him have his way with me?! As if!_

“You know, I’m only a concerned teacher…”

“Thank you so much, but I think I can manage on my own.”

She tried her damndest to pace her breathing and maintain the sickeningly sweet smile that had formed on her face, determined not to show him any weakness. The only thing that could possibly betray her emotions was the violent shaking of her left arm held discreetly to her side, phone almost crushed in the grip of its respective hand.

_If I so much as lift a finger against him, I’ll be expelled._

To say that her situation drove her to her wit’s end would be an understatement. None of her options had a positive outcome. It was either lose her dignity or lose her place in society. Crying for help was completely out of the question as any student who hadn’t gone home was still in the school doing their own thing, while other teachers would definitely turn a blind on her – _especially_ her – and _he_ knew this, she was sure. That’s why he was so smug,

Just how many times had he gotten away with things like this before? Why hadn’t anyone said anything?

Akira took in a sharp intake of breath. Her principles simply would not stand for this. Probation. Be. _Damned_!

Just as she budges, lifting her foot up to stomp on his, an empty soda bottle came flying and hit the side of his head. The shock of the impact loosened his hold on her as his hand shot up to cradle the spot that had been struck.

Still in awe at her good luck, Akira stood there, mouth agape as the teacher who, a mere moments ago, had been reduced to a groaning mess as he straightened himself.

“Run!”

Akira didn’t need to be told twice.

She spun on her heel and sprinted down the steps and into an alley, a furious ‘HEY!’ the only thing that chased after her. When she stopped, her bag dropped to the ground. She was hunched over as she panted, her hands on her knees, the experience more exhausting than the sudden physical movement.

Akira crouched down into a fetal position, arms hugging her knees. She was panting still, trying to force the adrenaline down, when a boy spoke up, his tone concerned.

“Hey, uh, are you okay?”

She looked up to see a bleach-blond guy her age dressed in the Shujin uniform, except he had the end of his pants rolled up unevenly, his suspenders were hanging from his waist, and he had replaced the turtleneck with a yellow graphic tee.

Akira nodded in response as she stood up.

_A delinquent…?_

The boy shifted awkwardly. “That’s… good.”

_Nope._

His demeanor shifted then. From a look of concern, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips scowled, and his body tensed. The boy was furious to say the least.

“God! I seriously hate that pervy Kamoshida,” the words came out of his mouth in a flurry, each one dripping with disgust. “He acts like he’s some king of a castle just ‘cause he ‘brought the volleyball team to nationals!’ Shujin’s a total shithole with him around!”

During his little explosion, Akira had managed to calm herself down a bit only to feel herself going livid once more.

Of course. _Of course_ he held a position of prestige in the school. _Of course_ he brought the volleyball team to nationals. _Of course_ he’s this all amazing coach who can do whatever he damn well pleases. _Of course_ she’d get stuck in a school with a guy like that for a teacher.

Of- _fucking_ -course.

The faux blond turned to her, calmer himself. “You look like you could use a drink,” He looked her over, far less lascivious than the teacher had. “There’s a vending machine near the school but,” he peeked out the alley behind her, “Kamoshida might still be around so I’ll get it for you, my treat.”

Akira blinked. “You don’t need t-“

He spun around to face her, wobbling a little bit, with a grin on his face and a hand waving aside her protest. “’s fine, ’s fine! Better ta avoid running into ‘im again after that, wouldn’t cha say?”

She couldn’t argue with that, not really. Plus, she felt a little queasy all of a sudden.

“Don’t worry, I got yer back,” He said as he for some spare change in his pockets.

Akira shoved her phone in hers, picking her bag up from the ground afterward. She shifted her weight on to her right foot as she watched the boy walk out the alley.

Not a moment had passed since she was left to her own devices when she heard coins clattering to the ground followed by an exclamation of disbelief and confusion. She followed after him, curious – easily a stupid decision of what the media presented was to be believed.

When she finally stood next to him, Akira was glad she wasn’t holding her phone still as she was certain she would have dropped that as well as her jaw because somehow, someway, in a short amount of time, the school had transformed into a castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... took ages. July got really social for me (save me) and then college started again, so yeah. 
> 
> Before anything else, I'd like to extend my deepest gratitude to @qwertyshuman on tumblr, my beta reader for this fic. God Kougaon you!
> 
> So, as you can see, canon has been diverged a bit here. TBH, I got some inspiration for this from a tumblr post that Iis probably buried deep, deep under a bunch of P5 stuff now. That stuff was what inspired me to start this fic out in the first place, so... Yeah, credits to that person. You da man.
> 
> Follow me @hopefulsugakookiealienmoster on tumblr!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and see y'all soon!


	4. Awaken, Arsene!

“What the…?”

Akira couldn’t have said it better herself. The sudden transformation of the school already made her head hurt, but the red glow of their surroundings made things even more surreal. Where the school gates once were, a drawbridge was laid out and open for entry. Behind it, the brick walls of the eerie building stood and loomed over them; torches lit with blue flames surrounding its perimeter. It gave off a vibe she couldn’t quite place but it made her gut wrench all the same.

She felt herself tense up, her hands growing clammy and her chest tightening.

_What on earth?_

“Guess we should check it out…” he sounded cautious, curious.

Reason dictated the shouldn’t;

The saying said that curiosity would kill the cat;

Body made her fall into step behind her dyed blond savior.

They entered the castle, purple puddles forming with each of their footsteps.

The interior was ostentatious in its lavishness. A red, round, plush rug lined with gold trimmings was placed in the middle of the hall, four cylindrical pillars held up the ceiling as high as they could, white and black diamond-shaped tiles went throughout the floor and up the staircase that split from left to right, beautiful stained glass windows gave light around the castle, above them hung 3 ornate chandeliers with a red satin cloth going through them. From where they stood, they could see a painting of a man not unlike the teacher who was all over her before, except here he was dressed in golden armour and charging ahead in a war.

Akira was both disgusted and confused.

Her companion was more concerned with the sudden change of their school which, on hindsight, should have been her concern too. His brows were furrowed as he scratched the back of his head.

“What’s going on here?” He took out his phone, “No signal? What the…?”

The strangeness reminded her of her dream the other night – too weird, too real. She felt her stomach twist. Was she going to be sick?

He spun around, growing concerned when he saw her with an arm wrapped around her stomach and a hand against one of the pillars to keep herself upright. “Hey, are you gonna be alright?”

She appreciated the concern but couldn’t voice it, fearing that she might throw up if she spoke. The feeling of dread that bubbled within was something she was not unfamiliar with, but the lack of doing anything to overcome it frustrated her every single time.

Just then, they heard what sounded like armoured footsteps approach them. Akira straightened herself, blanked her expression and stood with caution.

Bulky, blue-faced soldiers surrounded them, their appearance fitting in with the regal surroundings. They held shields with their left hands in front of them and longswords at their sides in their free hand.

Something at the back of Akira’s head told her that those were not for show.

Her companion, on the other hand, had taken to voicing out his confusion, asking whether they were students and bending forward to check their armor.

It was then that things happened too quickly for her to properly process what had happened.

One of the soldiers had began to raise his sword arm to strike down the faux blond but Akira had pulled the boy away just as the blade went through where he once stood. They ran, her leading the way and him a couple of steps behind, toward the ornate double doors they came in from and, for a moment, it seemed like they would make it.

However, the Fates decreed their business unfinished.

A cry of agony rang in Akira’s ears as her savior collapsed, writhing in pain as he held his right thigh. She made a move to get back to him but a soldier had manifested out of nowhere from a pool of red and black as she spun around and hit her on the back of her head with the shield, knocking her unconscious.

 

Akira woke to a throbbing headache, the clanging of the metal and the colourful yelling doing nothing to soothe the pain. She wobbled as she sat up, gripping on to the wooden plank she was laid out on for support.

Yet again, she found herself in a prison cell.

“Hey,” she called out. It was soft but enough for the faux-blond to stop whatever it is he was doing.

It took him a moment, but a look of concern formed on his face as he approached her. “You okay? They got you pretty bad…”

The girl nodded; not too sure what the true cause of her headache was anymore. “Yeah,” she remembered the pain in his voice as he lay on the floor, “you?”

He crossed his right leg over his left, eyes looking downward. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

Akira blinked, noticing the contradiction between his statement and his actions but saying nothing of it. Instead, she nodded and gently pushed herself off the plank. “I guess we should try to find a way out?”

The boy’s nose scrunched up as he frowned. “I already checked everywhere man… There’s no way.”

She huffed, placing both hands on her hips and looked around. Much like the cell from her dream, there were chains hanging from the ceiling. Unlike it, however, instead of a plush, velvet blue interior, this one had cold, hard red bricks, empty barrels littered around, moss and spider webs occupied corners, and the sound of rushing water coming from somewhere outside. There were, in fact, no possible escape routes.

“Guess we’ll just have to make one,” she spoke up after a while of pondering.

“What?! How?!” was the boy’s sensible response to her suggestion.

It was an excellent question, one that she didn’t really have an answer for. They didn’t have any materials and not nearly enough manpower to break through the wall, but that wouldn’t stop her.

_Well, for now it will…_

She shifted a into comfortable thinking position, chin in her hand and arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes glanced from side to side as she thought, sighing a few times when no possible solution came to mind.

Armed footsteps snapped her out of her reverie as both she and her companion turned to face the barred cell doors. Flanked by two guards was the teacher from before, except this time he was as disgusting externally as he was internally. He was dressed in nothing but a pink speedo, brown loafers, and a cape of red decorated with pink hearts. A tiny, golden crown sat atop his head, his eyes gleamed a sickly yellow, and an entire ecosystem could reside in his leg hairs.

Both blond and brunette saw things they would _really_ rather not.

“I-Is that you Kamoshida?”

‘Kamoshida’ sneered. “Oh? Here I thought it was some petty thief but it’s just you, Sakamoto…” He glanced beside the boy and the sneer turned into as smirk. “Oh, and a little mouse too,” he reached out to stroke her cheek but Sakamoto swatted his hand away.

“Don’t touch her, ya perv!”

It was a small gesture, something Akira could have done herself, but she appreciated it greatly.

The sneer returned on the pervert’s face. “Are you really trying to disobey me again? It looks like you haven’t learned your lesson at all, huh?”

Akira gave the blond a confused look but he was glaring daggers at Kamoshida, his teeth grinding against each other so hard she thought he might lose them.

Kamoshida spun around and turned his back to them, his cape fluttering. “Sentence the boy to death,” he paused, “and bring the girl to me. I’m going to have a lot of fun with her.”

He guffawed, walking away as the guards unlocked the cell and entered. Both teenagers stepped back in fear and confusion. If Akira felt nauseous before, now she was sick to her stomach. She broke out in a cold sweat, her legs wobbled, stomach twisted, lump formed in her throat. She fell to her knees,black spots forming in her vision as she tried to resist them. She was about to faint when she noticed a little bit of the faux blond fighting back and failing.

She wished she could save him, if only to pay him back for earlier.

_This is truly an unjust game_ , a voice spoke in her head as her consciousness waned, _Your chances of winning are almost none._ _But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you…_

**What’s the matter _,_** a masculine version of her own voice, deep and smooth, broke through the illness she was feeling. It had a flair of confidence that reminded her of justly arrogant anime characters. **Are you simply going to watch? Are you forsaking him to save yourself?**

“N-No…” she couldn’t help answering aloud, too weak to think.

**Death awaits him if you do nothing.**

Death would await her too.

**Was your previous decision a mistake then?**

Memories of the night of the incident flashed in her mind.

_Never_. She would never regret that night, no matter what had come of it.

For a split second her sickness disappeared and she could see the guards readying to kill the boy before it was replaced by a splitting headache that felt like something was forcing itself through her brain.

She screamed and writhed in pain as she collapsed, grabbing on to her aching head as she did. The same guards that were about to kill him now turned to her, wondering why she was screaming.

The voice did not stop speaking even then. It remained cool despite everything and spoke as if he had anticipated the moment for a long time.

**Very well… I have heeded your resolve.**

The pain increased so much in intensity that her screams grew silent.

**Vow to me,** he commanded, **I am thou, thou art I…**

Akira threw up, unable to bear the pain.

**Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name and release thy rage!**

She bent over backwards as she let out a tortured scream.

**Show the strength of thine will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!**

Everything went black for a moment before the pain subsided, leaving her with nothing but a name to call and a purpose to fulfil.

She couldn’t help but smirk as she stood, right hand reaching up to touch the mask that had formed on her face. Her nails dug into the skin of her forehead as she tried to pull it off; it was almost as if it had been attached to her skin. Slowly, it began to peel off, blood gushing from both the wounds from her nails and where the skin peeled off with the mask. With a final tug she ripped it all off with a war cry.

“PERSONA!”

A dark laugh echoed around the area as she erupted into blue flames, a surge of power running through her veins. She hugged herself as she gave her own maniacal laugh, the flames changing her attire. The force of the explosion undid her hair tie, letting loose a wild, dark mane of unruly hair. Her uniform had transformed into a black, three-tailed trench coat with a raised collar and a white pocket square; underneath it was a grey turtleneck that had two sets of golden buttons on it as well as lines going across and down it, and a pair of black dress shorts that reached her mid-thighs. On her hands were a pair of red leather gloves that matched her thigh-high boots that had partings at the side held together by criss-crossed golden chains.

She stopped laughing as the flames ebbed away and saw herself surrounded by the guardsmen who had previously been beating on Sakamoto. She smirked again, feeling the knife that had formed in her right hand and a being behind her. He was a dark creature of red, black and white with wings of a fallen angel, claw-like hands, knife-heeled boots, a black waistcoat and top hat, a white cravat, a terrifying smirk, and demonic horns.

**I am the pillager of twilight, ‘Arsene’! I am the rebel’s soul that resides within you. If you so desire, I will consider giving you the power to break through this crisis.**

Akira flicked her cape as she turned to face her would-be opponents. “Give it to me.”

**Hmph, very well… My power is yours. Kill them however you like!**

He chuckled as the guardsmen exploded into crypt-dwelling pumpkins. Akira juggled her dagger in her hand before throwing it at one of them, it digging into the unfortunate pumpkin’s head, it retaliating with a blast of fire in her direction.

She barely managed to dodge it, the flames catching onto the tails of her coat and singeing it.

Her dodge was met with a strike of the other one’s lantern.

**Detest the enemies before you! Change that animosity into power… and unleash it!**

Akira stumbled from the hit, her left arm would likely bruise from that. She clicked her tongue as she got surrounded, knifed one pumpkin in front of her and the other behind her. They both unleashed a fire attack which she dodged by ducking and sliding towards Pumpkin A. She grabbed the handle of her dagger as she slid, the force knocking the creature to the ground as the knife sliced through its head. Calling his name, Arsene followed up with a similarly colored blast of souls that disintegrated the floating head, leaving the duo with only one pumpkin left to take out.

Already, Arsene was moving to attack. He spun around as he kicked at it, leaving a large cut on the remaining pumpkin’s head. Akira ran towards it, lunging and stabbing her blade where the wound was and then twisting it before pulling it out again.

She fell over and onto her back, accidentally letting go of her weapon, with a thud and almost fell victim to another blast of fire.

_Roll_ , her instinct told her, prompting her to avoid the fire that struck where she once was.

**Swing your blade! Run wild to your heart’s content!**

Akira stood up and picked up her knife, it was her turn to attack now. She twirled her dagger in her fingers, smirking as the enemy headed towards her and then, with great precision, she threw her knife with all the force she could muster, pinning the pumpkin to the wall as it disintegrated.

She panted as the battle ended and Arsene dissipated, adrenaline wearing off. Only then did she remember Sakamoto in the cell who was staring at her with eyes wide and mouth agape.

“What the hell…” was all he could manage. He then blinked, his senses coming back to him. “Your clothes!”

Only then did Akira actually notice the change in her apparel.

She twisted her body to check behind her, saw that her chest, butt and thighs were made prominent by the outfit, and decided she liked it.

Akira was not self-conscious about her appearance in any way but her new threads really gave her a confidence boost and made her feel like she could accomplish anything with them on. She chuckled as she flicked the tail of her coat, amused. Maybe she would sneak in somewhere and steal something precious.

In a blast of blue flames less intense than before, her attire changed back to her uniform.

_Aw…_

Sakamoto got up from the ground then, limping a little from the beating. “We should go,” he said as he left the cell. “More of those guys might come and check what happened.”

Akira nodded, crouching down to pick up her glasses which had fallen off during her awakening.

They went down a path only to find it sealed off by metal bars.

“Aw crap, it’s a dead end,” the faux blond exclaimed upon seeing the locked bars.

But the brunette was already thinking. She had her chin between her thumb and forefinger, her left arm crossed over her stomach to hold her right elbow and her weight shifted on to her left leg as she looked around.

There were a line of cells to the left of where they stood, a small river to the right, another path further across it that continued past the metal bars, and a broken bridge that would have bridged the gap.

She jumped over it, Sakamoto following suit. They continued down the path, crossing the river again by jumping over some metal cages that had been stuck in place when they reached another dead end. Soon, they were hiding behind crates and barrels, waiting for the soldiers to pass by before moving again. They crawled through a hole when they came upon yet another dead end and climbed up a flight of stairs only to find that they were still in the dungeons and at _another_ dead end.

“Hey, you there!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead!
> 
> A really short chapter today, sorry. I pulled a Yusuke and got into a slump, whoops?
> 
> I wanted to get this one out as soon as I got over it, hope you guys like it.
> 
> Thanks to:  
> @cervicalvertebrea on tumblr, my beta; and  
> Thom, my fellow Phantom dweeb, for helping me with the fight scene


	5. A Friend

Akira blinked at the cat-like creature that called them over. It was black and top-heavy with a large, round head and a small body; around its neck was a bright yellow scarf and on its hands and feet were white gloves and boots respectively.

“You’re not soldiers of this castle are you?” it asked in a boyish voice, distressed. “Get me out of here! Look the key’s right there!” a stretched out paw pointed to a hook attached to a wall outside the cell.

Blond and brunette exchanged looks of skepticism before turning back to face it.

“We’re trying to get out of here,” Sakamoto spoke first, “’n you obviously look like an enemy too!”

He had two points, Akira mused. One was that they did not have time to be worrying about others. They’d seen many others locked up in hanging cages with iron helmets on, however if they tried to save everyone they would likely get caught. The other point was something she couldn’t exactly blame him for thinking. A strange creature asking them to let it out certainly was suspicious, especially since she had just previously taken out equally strange creatures.

_But…_

“I’m locked up here, so how could I be your enemy?! Let me out!”

It was certainly a valid protest to the accusation, no matter how loudly it was spoken.

“Quiet down,” Akira hissed, unable to think clearly with both the anxiety of possibly being captured again and the noise the two were making. “We’re going to get found if you two keep yelling!”

As if to spite them, the sound of armoured footsteps could be heard in the distance.

“Shit, they’re catching up already!” Sakamoto took out his phone in a panic, checking it. “There’s still no service… How the hell do we get out?”

“You two!” the cat creature called out again. “You wanna know where the exit is? Let me out and I’ll take you there. You don’t want to get caught and executed, right?!”

Akira thought about it. Really, they had no choice but to trust the creature with the guards approaching and all - and - if it turned out to be lying, she could simply use her power to dispose of it like she did those pumpkins.

“You better not be lying,” she narrowed her eyes at it as she took the cell key from the hook and unlocked the cell.

“For real? You’re trusting it?” The blond gaped as he watched the creature leave the cell with a relieved grin on its face.

“We have no time and no choice,” the raven-haired girl replied pointedly before turning to the cat who was relishing its freedom. “Where’s the exit?”

“Sheesh…” it pouted for a second before striding forward. “Follow me and stay quiet.”

So they did.

It led them to the raised drawbridge they passed by earlier. Seemingly, it had no levers to pull it down. Rather, a large bust of Kamoshida stood by its side. The cat creature turned to face them, a glint in its eye.

“You amateurs wouldn’t know how to handle this situation, but I trust Frizzy Hair here has in idea given the hint.”

Akira raised an eyebrow in interest; Sakamoto raised his voice in protest. Regardless, if the statue was the hint, then she might have some references of what actions to take.

She observed the aged effigy, it had moss running up and along uneven cracks. One part remained suspiciously clear of the plant life, however. It was around the area of the mouth where lines too straight to be cracks ran in an ‘L’ shape toward the upper jaw. Akira tilted her head, holding her chin in her left hand.

If her guess was right she would have to pull down the mouth and –

_Aha!_

The bridge lowered and they crossed it in haste, it creaking with age under the added weight.

On the other side, a castle guard was waiting to ambush them. Sakamoto fell backward as he moved away in terror, his foot getting caught in a crack on the ground.

“Tch, you amateur,” the creature clicked its tongue as its tongue as it jumped over the blond’s shoulder, turning its head to the brunette as she was enveloped in blue flames and her clothing transformed. “You can fight, right? Let’s go!”

Akira nodded, twirling her knife in her hand as she got into stance.

The cat jumped into the air. Upon landing, it called forth a name she had heard so many times in fiction before.

“Come, Zorro!”

A dark figure materialized in front of them, he was top-heavy like the cat creature, his torso and arms cartoonishly large and his legs cartoonishly slim. He wore black, Spanish garments, a small cape hanging from his back. In his hand, he brandished a silver rapier and sliced the air into the letter ‘Z’ much like it was on his belt.

In front of them. The soldier split into two – one being the same as those pumpkin-headed figures from before and the other being a purple devil-like brute with a large, pink, leopard-printed –

_Dick. It’s a dick. Just like Kamoshida is. Hah, symbolism._

The cat creature held a falchion in its grasp, draping it over its shoulder. “Hmph, we will promptly shut them up,” it said to her.

Akira ran forward at the enemy she’d taken out previously, inflicting two wounds before jumping back to avoid an attack from the bedside brute. A gust of wind blew past her and gathered at the enemy pumpkin-head, blasting it away and into pieces. She turned to the feline and saw it smirk as it crossed its arms.

“ _That_ is how you deal with an enemy, amateur.”

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Regardless, she twirled her blade in her hand, biting her lip in thought

The brute laughed as it dived for her, she barely managing to dodge the assault. Akira had just turned to face it when she felt the life being sucked out of her, her vision slowly getting hazier.

And then, the sensation stopped and left her slightly breathless. The brunette noticed it was due to another gust of wind knocking the enemy out of balance. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and called forth Arsene who, with a dark blast of souls finished off the devil creature.

“Not bad,” the cat spoke as it relaxed. “Your Persona’s pretty powerful.”

Akira acknowledged the compliment just as Sakamoto approached them.

“Persona?” he asked. “Y’mean those things that come out of you all dramatic like?”

The feline nodded. “You saw how Frizzy Hair ripped of her mask when she summoned it, right?” The blond nodded. “Well, everybody wears a mask deep within their heart. By removing that,” it looked between the two teenagers and was about to speak again when blue flames enveloped the brunette, her attire turning back.

It tilted its head. “Looks like you don’t have full control of your control of your power yet. The transformation doesn’t usually dissolve like that…”

“That’s enough!” the blond complained. “All this crap isn’t making any sense.”

The cat creature sneered. “Can’t you sit still and listen, Blondie!”

“Don’t call me ‘Blondie’, my name’s Ryuji!”

_Ah, so that’s his first name._

“And I’m Kurusu Akira,” she introduced herself. “And you?”

She eyed the feline who crossed its arms. “I,” it started proudly, “am Morgana.”

Akira nodded. “Now that introductions are out of the way, we should hurry. How much farther until the exit?”

“It’s close,” Morgana replied. “Follow me.”

Just as they began to move again, Sakamoto called for them to stop as something caught his eye in one of the cells.

“What the hell?! These are Shujin students!” he exclaimed in horror. Akira approached the cell as well and saw students dressed in Shujin Academy sports clothes beaten black and blue, and sprawled out on the ground.

_Weren’t those people we saw before in the Shujin uniform?_

Akira stiffened, her breath getting caught in her throat. She remained frozen like that until Morgana called out to them to hurry.

“Hold on!” the boy protested.

“We don’t have time to be worrying about other people right now! We – “

“There you are!” They were caught off guard by another castle guard seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

_Goddammit_.

Just how many more would they have to face before being able to leave?

Akira stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as her clothing transformed yet again. “Let’s do this.”

“Heh,” Morgana smirked, brandishing the same weapon as before. “I’m glad you stick to your guns.”

The soldier erupted into two dainty, pixie-like beguiling girls and Akira felt that it would be an easy fight. She summoned Arsene with whom she worked in tandem with to eliminate one of the enemies as the feline dealt with the other.

Akira moved first, slicing at the fluttering girl only to have it dodge her attack. She clicked her tongue, reversing her grip on her blade and spinning around to knock the little fairy aside just in time for her Persona to kick it down with his heel and then sending a blast of souls through it, causing it to disintegrate.

On the other hand, Morgana had won the battle by following up Zorro’s gust of wind with a melee attack, but not before the fairy got a hit in. One, two cuts, and it screamed out in pain as it disappeared.

“Let’s go,” Akira called as she began walking, her attire returning to its normal state, Morgana following behind her.

“Wait, we can’t just leave these guys here!” Sakamoto protested.

She stopped walking, taking a deep breath in as she looked at Sakamoto. That was true. They simply couldn’t, it would be too heartless. But she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up with the fighting. Not to mention, there were others hot on their trail, if they caught up to them then she would sooner pass out from exhaustion than finish the battle.

Morgana crossed his arms in irritation. “You can’t be serious about wanting to save them, they’re -  Oh, whatever, I’m going. If you two wanna stay here, be my guest.”

That got them moving.

The cat lead them up to where they had entered and beyond it to an isolated room near the entrance of the castle. It was empty apart from some shelves, torches and vases. A ventilation shaft large enough to fit a person through it adorned the wall. Akira couldn’t help but think it was suspiciously convenient. Nevertheless, it served as the teenagers’ exit, finding themselves at the school after parting with Morgana.

“Did we make it?” Sakamoto asked as he gasped for breath.

Akira was breathless herself as she looked around. “Looks like it.”

The castle had disappeared from sight, the red hellscape and oppressive air had been replaced by a bright blue sky, and there were people walking around normally.

**> You have returned to real world. Welcome back!<**

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the boy scratched his head in confusion. “More importantly, what was all that?! That weird castle, Kamoshida, and that monster cat?”

Akira didn’t know the answers to those questions, being confused herself. However, she had a feeling that they would soon find out.

They parted ways awkwardly, the raven-haired girl having no intentions of staying any later than she already had (checking her watch, a full two hours and a half had passed). It would only land her an earful from Sakura-san. However, she _would_ stop by the nearest convenience store to buy herself a meal since she doubted she would get free dinner on top of breakfast.

“Where have you been?” Sakura-san asked the moment she walked through the door, his tone stern.

Akira took in a deep breath. “I took a look around the city. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you, Sakura-san,” she bowed slightly as she lied.

He gave her a look of skepticism, grumbled something under his breath and said. “As long as you’re not causing any trouble. You know what it means to be on probation, don’t you?”

She nodded and headed up to her room, plopping down on the bed. The exhaustion hit her like a sack of bricks when she lied down. However, she couldn’t just fall asleep in her uniform and not having bathed. Especially after that whole escapade.

 

Her sleep was yet again disturbed as she awoke in the Velvet Room, dressed once more in prisoner garb.

_Out of one cell and into another…_

“About time you’ve come to. On your feet inmate!” Caroline ordered.

Akira begrudgingly walked up to the cell door, putting her hands on the bars, a sneer on her face.

“Our master wishes to speak with you,” Justine spoke. “It’s for your own sake that you take his words to heart.”

The twin wardens turned around to face their master who was patiently waiting for their attention to be drawn to him.

“First off,” Igor started, grin as wide as it previously was. “Let us celebrate our reunion.”

She wasn’t too sure she wanted to celebrate that.

“Oh?” he tilted his head, interested. “It seems you’ve awaken to your powers. And special ones at that. Your rehabilitation can finally begin.”

Akira’s brows furrowed. Even in her psyche people treated her like a criminal. If this mindscape was supposed to be a representation of her heart, what did that say about her self-perception? Was she in denial? No, that couldn’t be it. She knew what she did was right.

“Rehabilitation?” she asked, not really understanding why she needed it.

The old man’s grin widened as if he knew what she was thing. “There is no need to understand it all for the time being. First you will be training the power of Persona which you have awakened to – they are masks, an armour of the heart when confronting worldly matters,” he explained. She would have to look it up later. “I have high expectations for you.”

Just what did they expect her to do?

“There is no need to worry,” he continued. “You will learn when the time comes.”

The brunette didn’t appreciate the crypticness nor did she know why she nodded at the statement.

“By the by,” he shifted his head to the back of his other hand, “have you come to appreciate the Metaverse Navigator?”

_Metaverse Nav- That strange app?_

Igor grinned at her. “Using it will allow you to come and go between reality and Palaces.”

“Palaces?”

He didn’t answer her question, only grinning in response. “I bestowed it to you as a means to train you as a thief.”

_Thief?_

Before she could voice her confusion, Caroline had cut her off.

“The Metaverse Navigator is a gift from our Master! You better take care in using it, Inmate!”

Justine turned to her then. “Devote yourself to your training so that you may become a fine thief.”

Akira opened her mouth to comment, but Igor simply wouldn’t let her.

“It must be disheartening to make use of the Metaverse Navigator alone,” he cut off her train of thought, Akira getting slightly irritated at the inability to speak. “Should there be others who would prove useful to you, I will grant it to them as well. This is all for you to grown as a most excellent thief.”

She was about to pull her hair out over the whole thievery business when the alarm blared.

“Hmph, it’s time. Go back and enjoy whatever rest you might have,” were the last words she heard before her consciousness began to fade.

 

Akira awoke with a mild headache, most likely stemming from her dream. Nevertheless, she shook it and got prepared for school.

She would muse about whatever was said some other time.

Unlike the day before, when her walk to school was mostly uneventful, suddenly students from the same academy would look at her and murmur among themselves. It took her until arriving at the Aoyama-Itchome platform to hear what they were talking about.

“Isn’t she _that_ transfer student?”

“I can’t believe the school let in someone with a criminal record…”

“Dude, I saw her yesterday and thought she was pretty cute, but… to think a girl would do something like that…”

“I feel bad for her classmates… It must be scary being in the same room as someone like that…”

She stopped in her tracks. How did they find out? The school was supposed to keep the information about her criminal record a secret. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Her fellow students scrambled away when she looked at them. She didn’t mind the teachers looking down on her, she expected it, but to have her peers whisper about her behind her back, avoiding her, fearing her… It was just like back home when her friends stopped talking to her, when they wouldn’t even hear her out, when, suddenly, she was the worst person in the world to live.

Akira felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to go back and stay in her room, but that wouldn’t help her reputation – not that it mattered anymore – so she trudged her way to school with heavy feet and no expression on her face.

The setting in the classroom was even worse. The spotlight was on her yet no one, not even Takamaki-san, dared to look her way. Everyone whispered among themselves, acting as though she couldn’t hear who they were talking about. Ms. Kawakami could barely manage to settle the class down.

The brunette steeled herself. They were only rumours. She could prove them wrong, just like she would with the adults.

Akira didn’t even bother to eat lunch, however. She took one step inside the cafeteria and the mood instantly died. The students all stopped eating and turned to look at her. It was silent for a moment and then the whispers began

She decided it was more important to study her notes.

On her way back to the classroom, she ran into Sakamoto. He asked her to come see him on the school’s rooftop if she could. His departure was followed by Ms. Kawakami walking up to her, a stern expression on her face.

“You shouldn’t get involved with him,” Ms. Kawakami told her. “Sakamoto-kun is bad news. He didn’t used to be like that when he dedicated his time to track and field, though…”

Akira tilted her head. From her short, albeit emotional, experience with him, he seemed like a kind and passionate guy. What could have happened to earn him such a label?

She merely nodded at the teacher and made her way to the roof.

“Yo…,” he greeted when she arrived. The blond was sat on one of the unused chairs, rocking himself back and forth and an arm slung over the seat. “Sorry for callin’ ya out here like this.”

Akira shrugged. “I don’t mind.” It was quiet here, unlike everywhere else she could possibly go.

He snorted. “I bet Kawakami already told you stuff like ‘you shouldn’t get involved with him’, right?”

“Wow, right on the money. Word for word, too,” she joked scornfully as she leaned on one of the desks.

“Figures…” He looked down and away, but then his eyes met hers. “Then again, we’re on the same boat. ‘Ve heard about your criminal record, everyone’s talking about it.”

_Ah…_

“No wonder you were so gutsy.”

_What?_

“You’re not gonna avoid me like the plague?” Perhaps she said it with too much venom in her voice as he looked taken back.

“No way, man. Dream or no dream, you saved me from Kamoshida. So yeah, thanks.”

She visibly relaxed as she smiled at him. “You saved me from him too, you know. Thank you.”

“Oh, uh…” his cheeks turned light pink and he couldn’t meet her eyes, not really expecting to be thanked. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.” Sakamoto swallowed, regaining his composure. “But still, what was that place? And that Kamoshida too… was it really all just a dream?”

“I doubt it,” especially with that Igor had told her. Even though she wasn’t sure how to make sense of those words.

“Then…” he started, “do you think we can go back?”

The weird app would be able to take them there, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.

Sakamoto scratched the back of his head. “Ugh, forget it,” he let out a frustrated sigh before getting up from where he was sat and turning to her. “Anyway, that was all I wanted to say. Sorry for dragging you out here like this.”

“I don’t mind, I had nothing to do anyway,” she partially lied. She was grateful he approached her. At least she received some peace.

He grinned at her. “I think we’re going to get along just fine as ‘troublemakers’,” she could hear the air quotes. “You can call me Ryuji, I’ll come talk when I see ya ‘round. Don’t ignore me, ‘kay?”

“Will do,” she smiled back. “Feel free to call me by my first name as well.”

“Gotcha!”

They left the rooftop then, both of them returning to their respective classes. There was still some time left to their break, so Akira decided to continue with her plan to of reviewing her notes. This was met with scepticism by her classmates, however.

“Is she studying?”

“I  saw her taking notes in class earlier…”

“Didn’t she know the answer to Mr. Ushimaru’s question?

“Is she really a delinquent?”

Akira sighed. It would be a long year but at least she’d made a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively: Morgana Would Kill Me If He Found Out How Often I Referred To Him As A Cat
> 
> I personally think this chapter's rather lack luster, but hopefully I'll do better in the next one.
> 
> Thanks to @cervicalvertebrea for being my beta


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